Visualize: A Time Without Oppression

Momma who am I?
You&#8217;re a child of the most high
Kisha, momma, why we poor; why so often you cry?
Don&#8217;t worry about that, God will provide . . .
But momma you&#8217;ve been saying that since I was five
Prayer boy and we&#8217;ll survive, we&#8217;ll get by . . .
Momma, you prayin’ God drops that pie out the gray skies?
A change gonna come son, sooner than you realize
Momma does God lie?
Si, and you shut up that blasphemy!
Momma does God love me?
God loves us all equally. God loves everybody . . .
But momma does he love me, love our family?
Ndiyo —
Kisha, momma, why we always hungry? Why you never have enough money?

Visualize
A time without oppression, without institutionalized racism
where our children are not victims of sadistic pigs
Trigger happy because he wore his pants baggy
Trigger happy because his hair is nappy
Trigger happy because he wore an all black hoodie

Visualize
A time without repression
where a juvenile&#8217;s first and last lesson isn&#8217;t life in prison
where there is no war on black women,
war on black men, a war on black children
Poverty becomes obsolete, no one goes hungry
Everyone eats because food is free
No one lives on the streets,
homeless in their own community

Visualize
A country without millions caged in penitentiaries
or due to die by state sponsored death penalty
for crimes of trying to feed their families
where blackness is not the essence of your criminality
No student debt because education is free, and every
job starts at a minimum of $15
How do we achieve our vision of liberty after four centuries?

Visualize
A new reality of beautiful black daughters
Black sons, old and young, within every hand holds a gun
Black rage breaking out of its cage, break our chains
set free on every Amerikan street
cut the throat of the Statue of Liberty
so the world may see Amerika&#8217;s hypocrisy
Shhhh . . . We must whisper or Master will overhear
Come closer have no fear
What&#8217;s that there?
A shotgun! I&#8217;ve brought five for each of us,
but what if Master see us?
We&#8217;ll blow his damn head off,
then at least the children will know we fought —
Death to the oppressor!